The Solar System Series
by shinigami714
Summary: A collection of oneshots following the events of Light of the Moon. Part 2 - Supernova: For a few moments everything was peaceful. All he could see was a blinding white light, and his mind was finally clear. He was free. Until he wasn't. Fili/Kili
1. Ceres

**AN:** Prompted by Milliegirl20 on tumblr. This is a continuation of Light of the Moon. There will be other oneshots to come and I'll place them as parts under this title.

 **Chapter Summary:** It's Fili and Kili's first Christmas together, and now that Kili is real, Fili wants to make it a special day. One the brunet will be able to treasure forever.

 **Pairing:** Fili/Kili

* * *

 **Ceres**

For Fíli, it was like living with two people instead of one. There was the fearful one, the one afraid of pain, at times even touch, and the memories that haunted him. And there was the assertive one, hardened from a life filled with suffering and living on the streets. They were different, almost polar opposites in some ways. But occasionally there were glimpses of the other in each, a common ground of sorts, sometimes in the most unexpected of ways. It was when the weather began to cool, and the shows on TV changed to something more seasonal that Fíli first realized it.

Both of them loved Christmas.

There was the first snow, late at night, in the hours the brunet was still used to witnessing. Kíli woke him with a surprising amount of energy, dragging the blond through the hallways and out the back door. He forgot a coat, trampling through the snow in no more than sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt, and Fíli hurried to catch up, wrapping a heavy scarf about the other man's neck. Kíli took no notice of the temperature at all. He was entranced, by the colourful lights they'd put up outside, the way the reds and greens reflected off the crystal flakes on the ground and those still floating down from the sky. He wanted to roll around in the fresh white fluff coating the lawn, until his nose turned red and his fingers paled with the first sign of frostbite.

There was the gleam in Kíli's eye as they put up the tree and dug out age old decorations from storage. It was clear that every ornament held a special place within the brunet's heart. He had to make sure each and every one made its way onto the tree, no matter how old, how worn. He made new ones from paper scraps and anything that could be found within the house. And the cheap ones, the ones glued together by hand were just as valuable as the rest. Garlands found their way around every object they could hang upon, and mistletoe was hung from the entranceways to every room.

There was the surprised gasp at the first sight of a present under the tree, wrapped, and without a tag. Kíli shook it like a child, kneeling beside the tree with wide eyes as he tried to guess what was hidden inside.

"Who's it for?" Kíli asked, his ear pressed against the foil paper, listening carefully for some kind of hint. Fíli laughed at the sight of him, bending down to grab the gift from his overeager hands.

"It's a surprise, don't go spoiling it," Fíli chastised, though it was with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. Kíli nibbled at his lip, staring at the single present for a moment before frowning and standing up.

"You shouldn't get me anything," he murmured under his breath.

"Why not?" Fíli asked as he tucked the gift back in place, and when he looked up at the brunet Kíli's expression was dark and filled with frustration.

"Because…you just…shouldn't," he said, and then he turned away, hurrying off to spend some time alone. Fíli sighed, wondering what it was that triggered the abrupt change. It wasn't the first time Kíli had closed off, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Amidst all of his joy, there were also times of great sorrow.

The moments hit suddenly. All it took was a glimpse of the wrong thing, a brief thought, or even a sound. Kíli would clam up, his expression ranging from an empty void to absolute terror, from anger to feigned detachment. Fíli suspected there were things from both of Kíli's lives that still haunted him at unexpected times.

It was confusing for both of them. Fíli didn't always know which Kíli he was dealing with at first. Ghost Kíli was easier to help, he knew him better, and his offered support was positively received. Street Kíli was harder to handle. He was like a stranger in those moments, unwilling to ask for help, often distancing himself from Fíli due to lack of trust or some kind of misplaced fear. The blond forced himself to be patient, waiting until those moments passed, and the other man finally chose to reach out.

It happened when they decorated the plaques out in the backyard. Kíli placed poinsettias and holly around the stones carefully, scraping away the snow so he could see his parents' names. And then his eyes glazed over, and his shoulders wilted, as he recalled something from his past. Which past, was difficult to tell. It could have been either. In one life Kíli had parents, who both loved him, for a time, but their memories were tainted by the last days of their lives. In the other life, there were none. No one to hold Kíli, no one to guide him, to tell him he was loved and important. Fíli watched, and waited, until the brunet blinked unshed tears from his eyes, though the strained expression on his face remained visible for several hours into the evening.

It happened when they were finishing up the tree, and Fíli offered the other man the star. Kíli held it in his hands, staring at the golden object with distant eyes. His mouth fell open slightly, a slight breath of air escaping from between his lips. His fingers trembled and he shoved it back hurriedly, shaking his head as he pretended to occupy himself with the stockings while Fíli placed the star instead. The reason for that particular reaction was a complete mystery to the blond, and very well might remain that way forever.

It happened when they were settled in for the night, the fireplace flickering and warming the room while the lights on the tree sparkled and lit their surroundings in a myriad of colours. It could have been anything, the sight of a particular ribbon, the way a shadow danced across the wall. Kíli's fingers picked at the edge of a flannel blanket as he stared beyond everything, beyond the presents, and beyond the tree. He froze as his gaze fixated on the window, looking outside at the cold winter night, instead of in from the other side where he sometimes felt he belonged.

Fíli wanted to hold him, tell him it was alright and everything would make sense with time. He wanted to kiss him, like they had that first day they met beneath the sunlight. But Kíli wasn't ready, he wasn't whole. He had things to deal with emotionally before embarking on a relationship with a man a large part of him hardly knew. And as much as Fíli wanted to help the other man with sorting out his demons, he thought it best he didn't ask. Kíli would share those things when he was ready.

Until that time, there was one thing Fíli wanted to make sure of, and that was giving Kíli somewhere he felt safe and welcome. And if Christmas was his favourite time of the year, Fíli wanted to make it special. He spent it in the old house, declining invites to go out and visit friends and family. Kíli needed him more, and the last thing Fíli wanted was to leave him alone on Christmas Eve, or even worse, drag him out to meet a bunch of strangers.

After the sun set, the two of them enjoyed a late evening meal, and then they bundled up and went outside to play in the snow. Kíli insisted on building a snowman, and Fíli helped, the two of them rolling the heavy chunks of snow around until they looked somewhat round. Kíli donated his hat and scarf to the endeavour, grinning as he pushed stones into the shape of a smile. He stared at his finished work proudly, almost expectantly, as though he thought it might come to life any moment and sing songs like the one in the specials on TV. It didn't take long for his happiness to dissipate, and Fíli narrowed his eyes at the first glimpse of sadness upon his face. The blond bent to the ground, taking a risk, and a moment later a clump of cold snow smacked Kíli on the back of his head. The brunet howled in surprise, hobbling forward and nearly losing his balance. He turned towards Fíli with widened eyes, a mitten covered hand reaching up to touch the place of impact. The two stared at one another in silence, Fíli hoping he hadn't made a terrible mistake, but then the brunet laughed, his eyes narrowing in determination, and a moment later he was tossing snowballs right back.

The two men hurried around the yard, snowballs flying from all directions, laughter echoing around them. Fíli landed two more hits, and the brunet cried out indignantly, charging at him and pushing him to the ground. They rolled around, snow flying up around their bodies, until their faces were red and their hair soaked with half defrosted flakes. Fíli gasped as the other man straddled him, knocking the air from his lungs. Seconds later and snow was in his face, and Fíli rolled with all his might, throwing the brunet face down on the ground. He grabbed a clump of snow and shoved it down Kíli's shirt, laughing as the brunet squirmed and arched away from the icy mass with a scream.

"Ahhh! Okay okay! Sto-aaaah!" Kíli screeched, and finally Fíli fell away, gasping for air through his laughter. The brunet shook out his jacket, cringing as the melted snow dripped down his back, and he glared half-heartedly at the blond, his face flushed with a nose to match. Fíli sat up, resting on his hands as he grinned at the other man. The Christmas lights glistened on Kíli's moistened skin, reflecting off of dark irises and highlighting his clumped together eyelashes. Even in the muted lighting Fíli could see a few freckles on his skin. His hair was sticking to his face, and Fíli's gaze followed one of the strands, where it disappeared between his lips, caught against the silken skin. A snow ravished Kíli was one of the most spellbinding things he'd ever seen.

Fíli saw the shivers not long after, along with Kíli's breath. It blew from between his lips in heavy puffs as his teeth chattered away. Fíli tugged the brunet to his feet, and they made their way inside, a few lingering giggles sounding as they went. They found themselves sitting side by side on the sofa, hot chocolate in their hands as they watched the fireplace flicker. Kíli's feet twisted together where he tucked his legs beneath his body, and they shared a smile, Fíli's kind and welcoming, and Kíli's shy and endearing.

"I'd forgotten how cold it gets," Kíli whispered into his mug, and he licked his lips as whipped cream clung to them. Fíli raised his head, lowering his hot chocolate to listen intently.

"It's strange. In some ways, it doesn't bother me," Kíli voiced. His eyebrows lowered as his eyes drifted towards the cushions. Fíli sat in silence, his fingers tightening around the mug in his hands. It was one of those rare moments, where he wasn't quite sure which Kíli was talking.

"But in others, I hate it, more than anything. It reminds me…of both lives," Kíli said, and he swallowed, taking another quick sip of the hot drink. Fíli's heart rate increased suddenly, and he realized it was a different Kíli altogether. A…present day Kíli, a mixture of all of them. The Kíli that remembered things from all of his lives.

"I hate being cold," the brunet muttered, and then brown eyes fixated on Fíli, and the blond stopped breathing.

"You always felt warm, like the rays of the sun on a summer day," Kíli said, searching the blue eyes across, for what, Fíli wasn't sure. Kíli blinked a few times, and then he set his mug down on the coffee table and inched a little closer on the sofa.

"Can I…?" Kíli whispered, hesitating to lean close, and Fíli set his mug down as well and shifted on the cushions.

"Of course," the blond opened his arms, closing them again gently once the brunet was settled alongside his chest. Kíli leaned against him, snuggling into his body heat, and the two cuddled on the sofa as they listened to the crackling of the fire. It was something Fíli wasn't sure he'd ever get used to; the feeling of Kíli's body against his own. Each breath of air across his skin left him reeling, the texture of Kíli's hair beneath his fingers, fascinating. He played with it, twisting the long strands around his hands and just enjoying the silken feeling of it falling over his skin. There was a still cold nose pressed into his neck and it made the blond smile joyfully. He rubbed some warmth into the other man's back, squeezing him gently as he breathed in the scent of pine that always clung to Kíli's form. The brunet seemed to enjoy the light massage, and a few happy noises escaped his throat. When Fíli stopped, Kíli opened his eyes with a sigh, turning his head to the side to look out at the room. Fíli brushed a few stray hairs away from Kíli's face and followed the brunet's gaze where it lingered on the single gift still nestled beneath the tree.

"Have you given up?" Fíli asked, and Kíli's head shifted so that he could look the other man in the eye.

"On guessing?" the brunet wondered, and he pouted slightly when the blond nodded.

"It's not for me anyway right?" Kíli murmured, trying not to look disappointed, but the tiny twitch in his face gave him away. Fíli smirked and flicked the brunet's nose.

"It is," he admitted, and Kíli sat up, staring at Fíli in a mix of disbelief and excitement.

"Do you want to open it?" Fíli asked, and the other man wavered, looking towards the gift and back again.

"I…," Kíli trailed off, and he sucked in his lower lip. Fíli nudged him to the side, a hand pushing lightly against his back.

"Go on," he encouraged, and it took only one more nod towards the tree to convince him. Kíli scampered over to the gift, pulling it out with eager eyes. He looked like he wanted to tear the paper off in a hurried frenzy, but was holding himself back. Instead Kíli took his time, unwrapping the parcel slowly so as to savour the moment. He slid back towards the sofa, holding the exposed box in his hands, and with a final glance towards the blond, lifted the lid to reveal his gift.

It was a leather-bound book, with empty pages for Kíli to use in whatever way he liked. He could sketch in it, if he needed, or write little notes. The cover was embossed with his name and a few decorative elements around the edges. Fíli had custom ordered it, and he hoped the other man would like it even just a little. It hadn't been cheap, but Fíli wanted to get something special, something that Kíli might one day treasure.

He watched the brunet run his fingers across the cover before opening the book and flipping through the blank pages. Kíli didn't say a word, his face hidden behind a curtain of dark hair and Fíli wasn't sure how he felt about the gift at all.

"I know you're having trouble sorting some things out," Fíli began, and still Kíli sat nearly motionless, looking down at his gift in silence.

"I thought it might help. You can write things down when you think of them, try to organize your thoughts, figure out what's from where, or when. Heck, you can just doodle in it if you need to," Fíli rambled, wringing his fingers together nervously.

"I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through. It must be…difficult, confusing," he continued, and then he paused when the other man's voice sounded.

"Thank you." It was soft, but sincere, and even though Fíli could not see the brunet's eyes he knew Kíli meant it.

"I…know it's not much. I wanted to do something really special for you, but, you kept saying you didn't want anything," Fíli muttered, and then Kíli turned suddenly, staring him down with red rimmed eyes.

"Just getting to spend Christmas with you is special, Fíli," Kíli stated, and he held the little journal close to his chest like a lifeline.

"I've spent it alone for so long, in both lives," Kíli muttered. The expression on his face nearly brought Fíli to tears, but the blond laughed it off, running a hand through his hair as he debated whether or not to continue with his plan. He knew Kíli already felt guilty, living in the house without contributing to the costs. The brunet limited his intake of food, busied himself with cleaning as though he thought he needed to work to earn his keep. Kíli was the giving type, and he was unable to do so without a job or any money to buy things. Receiving gifts from others only served to remind him of that inability.

"…What?" Kíli asked, staring the other man down suspiciously, and Fíli shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out another small parcel.

"I did get you something else, don't be angry," he hurried to explain, but Kíli moved to his knees and gaped at the blond as he placed the journal on the ground.

"Fíli!" Kíli shouted, and the blond nearly flinched at the chastising tone. The box in his hands wasn't wrapped, and Fíli opened it, directing the brunet's attention elsewhere. The second gift was an elegant watch, and Fíli held it out, grabbing one of Kíli's wrists and fastening it around the slightly clammy skin.

"It's got the day, the year. I thought it might help keep you grounded," Fíli said, and he slid his hands down Kíli's palm, grasping the other man's hand within his own. His fingers massaged the skin beneath them as he looked at the silver links holding the watch in place.

"Whenever you're feeling confused, you can look at it, so you know exactly where and when you are," Fíli suggested.

That time, a tear escaped from Kíli's eye, and the brunet hurried to wipe it away, tugging his wrist from the other man's hold. Kíli slumped against the side of the sofa, fiddling with the watch for a moment as he cleared his eyes, while Fíli waited with bated breath at his side. The blond hoped he hadn't done more harm than good. He just wanted to spoil Kíli, show him how much he cared for him. It was their first Christmas together, and likely the first time anyone had given Kíli a gift in many years. Fíli didn't mean to hurt him. He was only trying to help. The blond was nearly on the verge of apologizing when Kíli stood, looking down at him with moist eyes.

"Actually I do have something for you," Kíli voiced. He looked unsure, but Fíli couldn't keep the happiness from his face, and he grinned like a lunatic and waited for the other man to continue. Kíli grasped his own wrist, glancing at the watch once more before turning to exit the room.

"Don't get too excited, wait here," he demanded, looking over his shoulder, and Fíli listened as the brunet's feet padded through the hallways and to the upper level. The blond couldn't help but stand and follow, working his way upstairs until he saw the ladder leading up to the attic. He paused in the hallway, his ears picking up scratchy noises as Kíli shuffled around in the cramped room above. It took a few minutes, but the brunet reappeared, and he was carrying something large and awkward down the ladder with him.

Kíli startled at the sight of him, nearly slipping from the ladder, but he caught his balance just in time, and managed to slink down to safety.

"You were supposed to wait!" Kíli hissed, his fingers clenching around the object in his arms, and Fíli shrugged apologetically. The brunet inched closer, dragging what Fíli realized was a canvas across the ground, and then he turned it around so the blond could see the image painted on its surface. Fíli's mouth fell open as his eyes stared into an identical blue set, painted in the unique style that could only belong to Kíli. It was a full portrait of him, from the waist up, and Fíli was surprised by the detail and clear amount of work dedicated to capturing his image.

"When did you do this?" Fíli wondered, his brain still absorbing the sight. He couldn't believe Kíli had taken the time to paint him. The brunet spent hours in the attic, working on things, many of which he never revealed to the blond, but it still surprised Fíli that he might be the subject of one of Kíli's artistic endeavours. Fíli often left the brunet alone while he was painting, unsure if he would be welcome in the room at those times. It had been different, while Kíli was a ghost. The brunet hadn't actually been working on anything, and he'd been led there. It felt intrusive to go in alone now, and unless Kíli invited him in personally, he didn't want to make the assumption that he was welcome. Kíli placed the canvas up against the wall, moving to stand beside him as he wrung his hands together uncertainly.

"D-do you like it?" Kíli stuttered, looking over the canvas, searching for errors that Fíli was incapable of seeing. When the blond turned, he was sucked into the other man's gaze, and the two of them stared at one another meaningfully. Fíli wasn't sure what to say. He was blown away. It didn't feel like any words would be able to convey how moved he was by the gesture. He hoped that Kíli could see that in his eyes.

Fíli found himself reaching out to grab Kíli's hand, linking their fingers together as he regarded the dark brown irises in adoration. He was hesitant to do anything forward, but he wanted desperately to kiss the other man, feel his lips against his own once again, and Fíli pulled him along, stopping inside a doorway as he glanced up towards the mistletoe hanging from above. Kíli stared up at it with an unreadable expression on his face. He'd hung it there himself, he knew what it meant, but did that mean he was prepared to stand beneath it?

"If you're not…ready…," Fíli murmured, his head falling forwards as he tried to read the other man's body language. He didn't want to push. He knew the first kiss they shared had been a bit of a shock, for both of them. The actual feeling of Kíli against him was unbelievable, and he hadn't expected the brunet to be dealing with so much internally. It was like starting anew, he had two people to woo instead of just one. And until both were comfortable with him one hundred percent, Fíli refused to push their relationship any further.

"I remember…," Kíli started, drawing a blue gaze towards his own.

"I remember my mother and father kissing beneath it. We were all happy, once," he mentioned, his expression a bit distant and sad. Fíli grimaced. He hadn't meant to upset him. He didn't want Christmas to be a bad memory. He wanted it to be special, something Kíli might treasure for days to come.

"There's no rush Kíli," Fíli hurried to say.

"You waited…years, alone in this house to be freed. The least I can do is wait for you to be ready. I didn't mean to pressure you," he swore, and Kíli looked towards him intensely, backing into the door frame across from him.

"Are you real?" It was a different Kíli, the street Kíli. His expression was a bit darker, his eyes a bit wilder. Fíli was beginning to spot the differences more quickly. He still had so much to learn. He hardly knew this Kíli, his likes, his dislikes, his personality. And yet, Fíli loved him, he loved every part of him.

"I ask the same of you every day," Fíli admitted, his fingers squeezing around the ones within his grasp. Kíli pulled his hands away with a scoff and he looked into the hallway with crossed arms. There was a frown on his face, and though his expression was guarded, there was also a fragile quality to the look that Fíli hadn't seen before.

"I've never met someone like you before," Kíli muttered. His arms squeezed tightly around himself and his nostrils flared as he glared at the floorboards below. The line of his mouth tightened, and he swallowed anxiously, fidgeting against the frame. Fíli said nothing, waiting for the other man to make his own choices. It was something he probably never had the opportunity to do before. The streets would have left little availability for decision making, instead forcing the brunet to do what he must to simply survive. He wasn't used to luxuries, to options, to having the power to say no or do whatever he wanted. Kíli opened his mouth, taking a deep breath, and then his gaze drifted back, moving up Fíli's form slowly. Fíli wavered under the scrutiny but held his ground. He had to respect whatever decision the other man came to, good or bad.

"I'd be a fool to let it go to waste," Kíli said, and he pushed off the frame and approached, reaching out his fingers to drag across the fabric of Fíli's sweater. The blond's breath hitched, but still he waited, letting the other man take his time to act. Kíli's expression crumpled slightly, and he leaned in close, twisting his head to press a kiss to Fíli's cheek. The touch left tingles running along the surface of the blond's skin, and Fíli blinked in surprise, his skin flushing slightly from the feeling.

"Wait for me just a little longer," Kíli's voice was shaky, and Fíli could hear the desperation in it. The blond nodded, tugging him close, and Kíli wrapped his arms around the other man's body in return. Fíli felt the tears against his neck, the fingers grasping in his sweater, the shaking shoulders pressed against his chest. It wasn't exactly how he envisioned their Christmas together, but he still treasured the moment. He was there for Kíli, through thick and thin, and now the brunet knew it.

"As long as you need," Fíli promised, and he kissed the top of Kíli's head chastely, rocking him back and forth beneath the mistletoe. It was still a good Christmas, one he would likely remember forever. And Kíli had been right. Just getting to spend the day together was special. Fíli hugged him a little bit tighter, cried a little bit harder, and if possible, he fell in love just a little bit more as well.


	2. Supernova

**AN:** This is that transition scene I meant to write ages ago but am doing it now instead. Ehhhhh. This should probably be part two of the Solar System Series instead of three. Also I edited this while playing Civ VI, so it might not be perfect!

 **Chapter Summary:** For a few moments everything was peaceful. All he could see was a blinding white light, and his mind was finally clear. He was free. Until he wasn't. Directly follows the events of Light of the Moon. Please read that first :)

 **Pairing:** Fili/Kili

* * *

 **Supernova**

For a few moments everything was peaceful. All he could see was a blinding white light, and his mind was finally clear. He was free. Like a bird, floating above the earth without a care, the clouds the only embrace upon his wings, the wind lightly ruffling through his feathers. And then he was falling, his stomach lurching as everything turned dark and all he could feel was pain. It seared through his entire body, rushing down his limbs and up the back of his neck. He wanted to scream, but his throat closed off, and all he could do was grit his teeth and tense against it.

He woke with a start, short of breath. Kíli flailed his arms wildly and a garbage can fell away from him with a clang. A cat screeched somewhere deep in the alley spread out before him, and he was left in shock, gasping for air on the cold cement. There was a rank smell, urine probably. He was cold, so very cold, and for a few long seconds he had absolutely no idea where he was.

And then suddenly it was all rushing back. The memories. Hundreds of them. He was in a house, an old house, and there was his family. He remembered hands on his throat, choking on a necklace, pain, so much pain, but then it was gone, and all that remained was a lingering sadness. The cold was incredible. He was used to it, and yet, now it was magnified, it was real. And a part of him remembered that too. Remembered long nights spent sleeping in bus shelters and boxes, on street curbs and shielded by little more than the wedge in the side of a building. But the other part of him was numb to it, found comfort in that sort of cold, and why were his fingers shaking when it was just his reality. Just a part of him. Had been for years.

Until…until _him_.

A shadow of a figure emerged in his mind. Kíli remembered broad shoulders, a strong jaw framed with wiry strands. A hint of heat that compelled him closer. But it was the eyes that entranced him, blue, bottomless, full of concern and…love? What was his name?

He needed to find him. Needed to hear his voice, the only thing that kept him sane. He needed…he needed to vomit.

Kíli threw himself away from the pile of torn up blankets and stuffed bags that made up his living space. He gagged and hacked against the nearest brick wall as his stomach rebelled against him. He puked until his throat ached, and there was nothing left to come up. Until he was exhausted from the strain of it, heaving and pressing his brow against the cold stone. Tears came to his eyes, and Kíli scrunched up his brow at the unfamiliar wet feeling across his cheeks.

He thought his head might explode. So many images rushing to the forefront of his mind. He couldn't make sense of them all. They didn't connect. It was like none of them existed within the same universe. Like he was a million people stuck in the body of one. There was violence and anger, someone beating him up and throwing him in the gutter. He saw his family, for a second, or what could have been, and then that was gone, replaced by a bony hand that offered him a bowl with hardly anything in it. Hands touching him, in ways he didn't want. Hands not touching, in the ways he desperately wanted them to. He was sobbing, the tears leaving cold tracks along his skin. His vision blurred and he blinked rapidly until it was somewhat clear. With a shake of his head Kíli stood on unsteady legs, hobbling towards the end of the alley and near the unnatural light barely visible ahead. He shivered as his body left the shelter of the buildings, cold wind blowing over his face and neck.

Something flew by him, a streak of red flashing before his eyes, a loud roaring noise to go along with it. Kíli plastered himself against the bricks, his heart thundering in his chest as he tried to make sense of it.

A car. It was only a car. He'd seen hundreds of them, they were little more than part of his everyday surroundings. But…it was so very different from the cars he remembered. That kind of speed could easily kill a person. Why on earth would anyone get in something that moved that fast? A little voice told him there were things that went even faster.

The light above him flickered and he jerked his head up and eyed it suspiciously. There were flashing signs visible for miles down the street, advertisements for bars and clubs that Kíli walked past every day, and at the same time, had never seen before.

None of this was right, and it couldn't possibly be real. It just couldn't. He didn't like this place. Not at all.

Somewhere deep inside that voice told him to suck it up. That this was the best he had, and if he wanted to live for another day he'd find something to eat and a hole to crawl in for the rest of the night. And that's when he noticed the ever increasing pain in his gut. Hunger.

His fingers trembled against the stone wall, practically numb where they poked out of the end of frayed leather gloves. Kíli squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in deep. There was far too much going on inside his head. He needed to sit down and sort it all out. Separate his thoughts from one another and make sense of what was happening to him. But first…he needed to get help.

The brunet pushed away from the wall and hobbled down the sidewalk warily, trying to control the shaking of his body. He looked at his surroundings desperately, hoping it might help him figure out where he was. A woman passed by, sparing him little more than a disdain filled glance, and Kíli held his tongue. He'd get no help from her. His head turned towards the nearest storefront, and he spotted his reflection, wide brown eyes staring back at him, deeply etched in a somewhat familiar face.

Yes. That was his face. He recognized it, even with the slight differences. His hair was a bit shorter, and unkempt, but his skin was just as pale as ever. He was thinner than he remembered, older too. Or maybe just tired, it was hard to say. His nose was the same, his eyebrows just as fierce. It wasn't exactly as he remembered, but the familiarity comforted him, and he latched on to it and managed to slow his shaking.

Kíli tried to remember the last person he spoke to, the last thing he did, and a part of him knew… _knew_ that it was trading a pack of cigarettes for something to eat with the strange old man at the corner of Fifth and Maple Ridge, but then there was someone else. Those blue eyes again, a soft expression, blond scruffy hair, warmth…warmth he hadn't felt in…ten…no hundreds of years. And what? What was wrong with him?

It had to be real, it had to.

The necklace, the grave, the swings. He remembered it all. He wasn't crazy, he wasn't. He was _not_ crazy.

He knew those woods. Even in this life. Of course he did. They'd even been his home once…except he'd never had a home, had he? He remembered running through the leaf covered pathways in autumn, skipping alongside the river with his mother in the Spring. His father, sitting beneath a tree, watching as he played. The same man that killed him. Was he…dead? He reached up towards his neck, touching the skin beneath his scarf delicately. His pulse throbbed along with his heartbeat. There was no doubt that he was alive. Clearly some kind of madness had infected him.

Two men exited a bar nearby, laughing loudly as they slumped over one another. They made eye contact with the brunet for a second before strolling in his direction on rickety legs. Kíli tried his best to stay invisible, he'd always been good at that. He lowered his gaze, held his breath, pressed his body back even further against the wall. It didn't prevent one of them from reaching out and grabbing at his ragged coat.

"How much for those lips on my cock?" the man breathed against his neck, and Kíli swatted at the hand and nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to back away. He turned tail and fled, running down the street even as a voice cried out after him.

"Bitch!"

Kíli ignored the shouts behind him, skittering through tiny pathways like he had done so hundreds of times before. He jumped a fence between two buildings, squeezed his thin body through a crevice in a wall and exited on the other side. There was a dumpster nearby, but no sign of strangers, and he sighed and gathered himself to the best of his ability. There were so many images rushing through his mind, it was difficult to latch on to any single one, but there was something that was clear, something he could remember nearly every detail of.

The old house, with rooms that held many secrets, and the man that looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world. No one had ever looked at him like that. He was trash. He was nothing but a street rat, thrown away long before he had a chance to even form words. He needed that, desperately. He wanted to feel loved like that more than anything in the world.

He could find the house. He could find him. He had to. It was the only thought that kept him breathing.

Kíli ignored the ever growing pain of hunger in his stomach, figuring another night without food would have little effect on his already malnourished body. Instead he headed South, hands stuffed in his pockets as his legs worked hard to carry him toward the woods. It was a long walk. He'd done it only a couple times before, but if he kept at it he knew he'd get there before sunrise. And he absolutely needed to be there as soon as possible. It was like his heart was set on it, like there was no other alternative, like if he didn't get there he wouldn't make it through the day.

Truthfully, that was always a possibility with his lifestyle. The streets were cruel. He'd seen his fair share of dead bodies left at the curb. The cold nights took anyone who showed a moment of weakness, and the gangs and junkies took the rest.

He ignored the voice screaming at him internally. Lecturing him for giving up valuable scrounging time. The best moments to pickpocket were just after the bars closed. The late night patrons downtown were drunk, uncoordinated, and easily swayed. They were careless with their wallets and their phones. It was how he managed to get by for so long on so little. And his pockets were dangerously empty of change. Kíli picked at the hole in the bottom of his left one nervously. It was taunting him, trying to urge him to go back to the false security of his cardboard box. His chest tightened at the mere thought, so he continued on his way.

The city dwindled, the street changing to a dirt one as he ventured further into the outskirts. It was quiet, and dark, and he tried his best not to flinch every time a car zoomed past him on the road. Eventually he spotted the skinny pathway that led into the forest, and he paused for only a moment before following it. There were wild animals he should have been afraid of. There could have been killers, or rapists, or teens high off their minds waiting in the shadows for some hapless sap to walk by. It was downright stupid to walk alone in the woods at night. But he couldn't stop. His feet moved almost on their own, despite the shin splints running up his legs, and the searing pain in his heels. He was completely exhausted, but there was no way he could sleep in such a state.

When he reached the little bridge that crossed over the river his heart rate quickened. All it took was one step onto the slats and his throat constricted. Flashes of another life inundated him. Screaming, and anguish. Loneliness, eternal silence, and absolute desperation. He fell to the ground, his fingers scuffing against the worn wooden planks, nails catching on his dry skin. He pushed himself back up roughly, then stumbled to the other side of the river before taking off at a run. He just had to follow the water. It wouldn't lead him astray.

He ran blindly, eyes blurred again with unshed tears, and his breaths became ragged and painful. He felt every step in his spine, every ache deep within his soul, and he cried out as his foot missed the ground altogether and his right leg fell into a gaping hole. The impact with the forest floor winded him, and Kíli cringed as his nails clawed at the dirt around him. He eased himself out of the ditch, and rolled flat on his back, staring up at the looming willow branches above.

His head tilted as he refocused his sight, taking in the old tree with weary eyes. He knew that tree. He knew where he was. He was so close! So close to home!

Without a second thought Kíli rolled over and dragged his body upright, veering off at an angle that he knew would go directly to the mysterious house so clear in his mind. His surroundings passed by in a rush, leaves brushing through his hair, branches scratching at his face. His scarf caught on something and he tugged at it wildly, grunting as he pulled himself free and hurried on. He was near sobbing when the leaves began to lessen in proximity, and the sight of a large home greeted him. It was just as he remembered. The shutters freshly painted, the hedges trimmed. The yard was large and sloping, and there! Just to his right! There was the swing set he so often sat on as he looked at the stars in wonder. They were clear above him, far more vivid than he'd ever seen in the city, and Kíli stepped slowly into the yard as he looked up above like he always had in a different life long ago.

Kíli dropped his gaze, and his dark irises latched onto the plain gravestones set into the ground nearby. His breath hitched as he stepped closer, reading the names with wide eyes. His mother. His father.

There was a fresh grave too, flowers decorating the top, but no marker like the others. It felt strange to step near, because subconsciously he knew who that grave belonged to. And yet…he was standing before it instead of rotting beneath the ground. Kíli knelt close, running his fingers through the loose soil in a decorative pattern, writing his name with intricate movements until he got caught on the chain resting atop the grave. The metal was cold to the touch and he lifted it carefully in his palm, revealing a necklace that had once hung around his neck. He ran a thumb across the top before tightening his hold around it. He was having trouble breathing again. On the verge of a panic attack. His eyebrows scrunched together on his face and he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

What was he thinking rushing out to the woods in the middle of the night? What was going on? Was he alive? Was he dead? Was he insane? He trembled all over, and wrapped his arms tight around his own body. He was so very cold. He hated being cold.

Kíli stood uneasily and made his way to the swing. He sat on it gingerly, gripped one of the chain links fiercely in his hand, like he was holding on for dear life.

It squeaked.

He remembered that too. And for hours Kíli sat and swung, staring at the back door to a house he should have been able to walk into but knew he couldn't. Not really. It wasn't his. Not anymore. It wasn't. And yet it was. And so he sat. His heart beating so loud he thought it might consume him. But he was used to waiting. And hours were nothing. He'd spent days, years alone, waiting, for nothing and everything.

The sun rose and there he still sat, rocking away as the birds began to sing. There was a loud clatter, the sound of a door flinging open, and then a voice that sent shivers running down his back. He turned, and was greeted with those blue eyes that he remembered so well, and at the same time, had never seen before in his life.

 _Fíli._

Everything…everything was going to be okay.


End file.
